We first met the Sutherland family in 1973, when we took up a locum position with the practice. We had arrived in Sydney, from South Africa two weeks previously.

The overwhelming welcome we received from Iain and Hilda set the stage for our permanency in the Manning Valley, and Wingham more specifically. At the time Iain was in partnership with Peter Watson, an affable Englishman.

We were included in most of the significant Sutherland events, such as Christmas and New Year celebrations, also picnics and beach visits. How well Lynette and I remember being taught to ‘Strip the Willow’ on their front lawn; we were more familiar with rock ‘n roll and the twist at our age.

I also recall a nine year old Neil patiently playing trucks with our one year old on the beach at Blackhead. 

Peter Watson returned to the UK and that left Iain and I holding the fort for close to two years, with only the occasional locum giving us a break from the demands of practice.

Fortunately Alan Love joined us in November 1977, and we enjoyed a stable practice partnership until Iain’s retirement in 1990. It is pertinent to mention that we never had any formal practice agreement.

Iain introduced Alan and I to a valuable tool for harmonious practice – sharing a dram at the end the day. This was essentially to discuss the problems we had encountered during the day. There were occasions when we had more than one problem.

Iain was a more than competent country GP. Those days there were few specialist practitioners, and one was compelled to use all the medical skills, taught and acquired through experience.

Iain delivered approximately 80 babies per year. The average GP delivered about 30. He actually hated obstetrics, one reason being having to be available 24 hours every day, including weekends and all public holidays.

He administered anaesthetics for major surgery. I recall one case in theatre, when I failed to reduce a difficult fracture after several attempts. He walked from the head of the operating table, then dexterously manipulated the fracture to a perfect position. He was also a master at dislocated shoulders, of which many came our way. By reducing these in the treatment room of the surgery, the cost and convenience was considerable to both the patient and the system.

Iain had an affinity for psychiatry. He would spend countless hours (many outside office hours) with the most difficult psychotics. Both Alan and I were grateful, as we never had the patience.

He was not quite as tolerant of the worried well. I recall one consultation: a devoted mother of an only child brought the teenager to see Iain because of acne and a painful neck. He was a somewhat obnoxious lad, who continued to interrupt the consultation. After carefully explaining the management of acne, and following it with a prescription, Ian led them to the door, signifying the end of the consultation, when Mum stopped, turned to Iain, and asked, “what about his neck, doctor?” Thinking aloud, Ian replied, “ring it!”

As bureaucracy insidiously crept into medical practice in the late 80s, Iain’s appetite for medical practice diminished. He was obviously much relieved, when he walked into the surgery one day in early 1990 and announced that he would retire in June.

He had a memorable farewell function at the surgery on a glorious, sunny, winter afternoon with patients and colleagues coming from afar to thank him for his dedicated service and wish him well. (They enjoyed seeing him in his kilt, which he donned for the occasion).